


Domesticity Becomes You

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Fast and the Furious (2001), Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Domestic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Man vs. Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dom eyed the machine suspiciously and did a silent prayer. It had to work this time. He put premium goods into the damn thing and it was supposed to be top of the line equipment. He adjusted the dials for the fourth time just to make sure they were right. You couldn’t be too careful with machinery like this. It was unpredictable… alien… and Dom thought downright dangerous. But Dom wouldn’t let a simple machine defeat him… even if he thought this one in particular was possessed. He took a deep a breath and turned the knob, jumping back in case it exploded again. The machine chucked and whined a bit, but started to run.

 

“Stupid fucking machine,” Dom spat and he really wanted to kick the machine, but didn’t dare because he knew how temperamental it could be.

 

“Dom, what are you doing?” Brian asked.

 

Dom didn’t take his eyes off the machine and continued to glare at it. “Nothin’.”

 

“It certainly looks like you’re doing something,” Brian laughed.

 

“Laundry!” Dom growled. “I’m doing fucking laundry. Happy now, laughing boy?”

 

“Why are you doing laundry?” Brian asked, not even trying to suppress his smile.

 

“Cause I need to.”

 

“Dom… Mia might be gone for over a week, but she said she left enough clothes to last us two weeks.”

 

“But I want my favourite pants,” Dom grumbled.

 

“Why?”

 

“Cause they’re comfortable.”

 

“O-kay…” Brian’s smile widened, that explained why Dom was in his boxers and nothing else. “And you thought you could wash them yourself?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Dom…”

 

“What!”

 

“First of all, the washing machine isn’t going to bite you… so you can stop trying to kill it with your scowl,” Brian laughed. “And secondly, what made you even think to try and wash your own clothes?”

 

“You weren’t here,” Dom mumbled.

 

Brian sighed and moved up behind Dom, wrapping his arms around the big man’s waist. He kissed Dom’s head. “I had to go shopping, big guy. You ate all the leftovers Mia froze for us.”

 

“I was hungry,” Dom defended.

 

“I know,” Brian said, patting Dom’s stomach.

 

“I went to the store to look for you,” Dom said, “Cause I wanted my pants washed and in case you needed to buy anything special. I couldn’t find you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Brian soothed and kissed the back of Dom’s neck.

 

“So I thought I could do it myself or at least pick out the soap…” Dom grumbled. “How was I supposed ta know they have a whole aisle full of the shit!”

 

“Must’ve been frightening,” Brian teased.

 

“Shut up,” Dom huffed. “At least some lady was nice enough to help me…”

 

“A lady…” Brian’s grip tightened on Dom’s waist.

 

“Relax, loverboy… she was like fifty,” Dom chuckled. “She told me what to buy and even wrote down instructions on how to handle the washing machine.”

 

“Oh you, Dom, only you…” Brian snorted. Brian had a mental flash of his forlorn lover standing in the laundry detergent aisle and laughed harder.

 

“It already exploded once,” Dom mumbled, waving absently at the pile of wet towels on the floor.

 

“Exploded?” Brian croaked.

 

“Yeah… bubbles everywhere!”

 

“Oh…” Brian smiled. This tough man who could tweak a ten second car in his sleep was defeated by a washing machine. “You added too much soap. Did you follow the instructions she gave you and the ones on the back of the bottle?”

 

“At first…” Dom hedged. “I just threw a couple more scoops in though… it didn’t look like it was enough.”

 

“Why don’t we just back away from the washing machine… slowly…”

 

“Until what?”

 

“Until Mia comes back.”

 

“But I want my favourite pants…” If Brian didn’t know better, that sounded distinctly like a whine.

 

“I don’t mind you wandering around the house in boxers,” Brian offered and played with the elastic of Dom’s boxers.

 

“I have another idea…” Dom turned around abruptly until he was face to face with Brian, with his large hands splayed on his hips.

 

“What’s that?” Brian’s breath caught.

 

“You can help me guard the washing machine…” Dom leered at Brian and then picked him up, setting him down on top of the washing machine. “Look… I learned something new today… it cleans clothes, it’s possessed and it vibrates!”

 

“You’re so domestic, Dom…”

 

END.


	2. Domestic Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom vs. the oven.

Brain walked into the kitchen and stopped cold when he saw the smoke detector was hanging from the wall by a series of sad looking wires. It looked like someone had ripped the device off the wall. Add that to the fact the oven fan was running full blast, the wide open windows and Dom fanning the still hazy room with a dish towel led to one scary conclusion. Dom had tried to cook something again.

 

“Ahhh, hey Dom,” Brain greeted uncertainly.

 

“Oh…” Dom turned and froze when he saw his lover. “Hey Brian.”

 

“Wha’cha doin’ Dom?” Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Cookin’,” Dom supplied helpfully, but moved to block the oven door.

 

Okay, so there had obviously been a disaster. “I can see that.”

 

“I wasn’t expectin’ ya home for a while yet,” Dom looked at the clock and then at Brian as if it was *his* fault for this whole mess.

 

“I wanted to come home early.”

 

“Why?”

 

“To be with you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Uh huh.” Brian nodded. “Would ya like help cleaning up?”

 

Dom kept his gaze steady with Brian and said with a straight face, “It’s not that bad.”

 

Brian took in the stack of pots and pans in the sink and the counters covered with a variety of condiments and knives. “It’s been worse, I suppose.”

 

“I was tryin’ to cook… for you,” Dom admitted.

 

“I see… and how did it go.”

 

“It went fine,” Dom grumbled. “Until the stove went crazy.”

 

“The stove went crazy?”

 

“Uh huh,” Dom confirmed with a nod. “I put it in the oven too warm and next thing I know the stove like charcoaled it.”

 

“You left it in the oven to warm?” Brian felt stupid repeating parts of Dom’s story, but sometimes it was necessary to draw the real truth out, not Dom’s truth.

 

“Yeah, I turned the knob *off* but, the freakin’ stove didn’t turn off,” Dom growled.

 

Brian quickly checked the oven over and noticed it was still very hot, then he saw the knob. “Ahhh, Dom… which way did you turn the knob?”

 

“Right, just like on my old stove at home.”

 

Brian groaned. This wasn’t going to be easy to explain. “Dom, if you need to shut this one off, you have to turn it to the *left*. If you turn it right, it won’t shut off, but that sets it on broil.”

 

“But my old stove at home…”

 

“Isn’t *this* stove,” Brian finished for him. Brian cringed inwardly when he saw the look on Dom’s face. Dom had two insecurities. One was his lack of education and the other his complete ineptitude in the domestic arena. “It’s a mistake anyone could make.”

 

“No it’s not,” Dom muttered.

 

“There’s nothing sayin’ whatever you made is burnt…” Brian said hurriedly. “What did you make?”

 

“Shepard’s pie.”

 

Okay, that sounded a little complex for Dom. “Was it something Mia left in the freezer for us to defrost?” Brian hedged.

 

Dom turned hurt blue eyes on Brian. “No… this one I made by myself. She left me step-by-step instructions. She said even *I* could do it. Cook the hamburger. Add vegetable soup. Peel, boil, mash the potatoes and add them to the top of the hamburger stuff,” Dom repeated the instructions he had memorized.

 

“Why did you go through all the trouble?” Brian knew he’d made some sort of mistake when Dom’s eyes grew more hurt, then guarded. “What?”

 

“Nothin’,” Dom clammed up with a scowl on his face as he started to bang pots around.

 

Brian groaned softly again. Dom might be a big man, but on the inside he was a big softie. When he loved someone, he loved them completely and it was easy to hurt him. “C’mon, Dom. Give me a little hint here, I’m not a mind reader.”

 

Dom dropped the pot he was fiddling with. “What day is it, Bri?”

 

“It’s…” Brian had to stop and look at the calendar. “Oh shit. Dom, I didn’t mean to forget…”

 

“Our anniversary,” Dom supplied.

 

“I really feel like a shit about this,” Brian pleaded.

 

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t know how many times I forgot Letty’s birthday and our anniversary,” Dom said in a cold voice.

 

Brian came up behind Dom and wrapped his arms around the big man’s waist. “But you didn’t forget this one.”

 

“No.” Dom was still rigid in Brian’s arms.

 

“Why?” Brian prompted.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Yeah, it does. You matter to me, Dom,” Brian said, nuzzling the back of Dom’s neck. “I love you.”

 

“Cause it was you,” Dom finally supplied after a few minutes as he slightly shifted his head to allow Brian better access to his neck.

 

“Uh huh… and?”

 

“And I remember stuff about you… about us,” Dom supplied with a soft groan. “Can’t help it.”

 

“Neither can I,” Brian affirmed. “Thank you for remembering.”

 

“We can go out for supper or order somethin’ in,” Dom said, turning around and wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist.

 

Brian gave Dom a sound kiss and then pulled away. He grabbed the kitchen towel still hanging around Dom’s neck and then opened the oven, pulling out the pot. He set it down on the elements and grabbed a spoon to scrap away the top layer of charcoal. Underneath was some dried out, but still white potatoes. He scooped out some with the spoon and swallowed it immediately. “See, it’s still good.”

 

“It is?” Dom asked sceptically.

 

“Just a little dry,” Brian answered truthfully. “But we can had some ketchup on top and we won’t be able to tell the difference. You cooked it, I want to eat it.” Of course, he didn’t tell Dom that it had a distinct charcoal taste.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Brian nodded with a smile.

 

“Ya really must love me if you’re willin’ to eat my cookin’,” Dom beamed at his lover.

 

“Yeah, I must,” Brian confirmed. “And you must love me if you stay with a forgetful schmuck like me.”

 

“Hand me the spoon, schmuck,” Dom quipped and then ate a large scoop out of the pot from the hole Brain had dug. He cringed and snorted, “At least it doesn’t taste like chicken, but you’re right, it needs ketchup. Happy anniversary, Bri.”

 

“Happy anniversary, Dom.”

 

Domestic bliss comes in so many forms.

 

END.


End file.
